Alternate Realities: Hound of the Dark Earth
by Ehren Hatten
Summary: Cuchulainn was born in a future world where humans were cursed with burning from the sun's rays. He lived all his life in darkness and then found himself in a world of light. CHAPTER THREE up. for trailer, look up fatalrob0t on youtube.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: And you thought it was just a one time deal! XD Not likely.**_

**Alternate Realities:**

**Hound of the Dark Earth**

_**Prologue**_

Imagine that there are different dimensions, each following the path of a decision. Imagine that each decision you make forms a world devoted to that path that decision made. That is what alternate realities are for. Imagine if you will, then, a world where the sun hates the humans on the earth. The plant-life and animals do not suffer, but for the humans light means instantaneous death.

Such things are not possible, you say. Science shows that if the sun were close enough or hot enough to cause such damage to the human body, then it would therefore incinerate the rest of the life of the planet. Forget science, forget what you learned and follow the path of what is shown to you. The alternate universe where the God of Light hates the humans on the earth and takes his continual revenge out on the people; that is what I will tell you of.

In this world, the rules have changed and one man who was once a hero in the distant past is now a hero in the distant future. His life will forever change as he finds himself in a world of light that does not harm him and will make him wonder if he should go back home or face the new world he has found himself in.

That is what this story is about. That is what you will sit and learn. Love the darkness and hate the light, for the darkness is what gives life and the light is what kills.

In the beginning, there was the Earth. Then, the God of Light said he wanted to light the world and so he did; and he saw it was good and so it was good. Animals and humans were created soon after as the Gods and Goddesses began to gaze upon the Earth and hope for something else to be placed upon it. The humans worshipped them as they should have and it was good.

Humans grew and grew more sophisticated with their machines and their lives, starting to turn away from the Gods and Goddesses and worshipping one, the God of the Jews. Without the belief of the people, the Gods and Goddesses chose to sleep and wait for the day when belief in them arose once more. There was one that watched over the sleeping ones and the humans as well as the God of the Jews. This was the God of Darkness, the great watcher. He was the brother of the God of Light and loved nothing more than to watch the humans be humans.

But the humans grew restless with their neighbors the wizards and destroyed their world to get at them. More so, the wizards had revoked their vow to keep their life from humans and retaliated against the humans. Soon, only small colonies survived the great attacks. The God of the Jews and the God of Darkness both felt terrible and wished for the end of the conflicts. Eventually, peace settled over the land and the humans and wizards began to live together as one people.

The people of Ireland soon began to remember their old ways and began to worship the God of Light once more. The God of Light came back to their world and blessed them with peace and happiness for a thousand years alongside his fellow gods. The God of Light wished to have a son, a great son who would be the greatest hero of all time. He saw a lady who he felt deserving, the sister of a king. He devised a plan to have the princess be the mother of his child and told his brother of this plan.

The God of Darkness had also always wanted a son, but for the life of him had never found a woman worthy of him. He saw the princess who had caught his brother's eye and felt love flow through him as he gazed upon her. He then devised his own plan to have the woman bear the son both gods had wished for. He went to Earth and used the very plan that his brother was going to use. He seduced and gave the princess a child, his child, and told her to name him Setanta, the name his brother had chosen for his son before the God of Darkness had chosen to use his own plan for his own. The princess left soon after and went to her home, in Ulster, and the God of Darkness went back to the place of the Gods where his brother confronted him on taking away the son he had formed for himself and placing it into the woman as his own. A great fight ensued between the brothers, the sun and moon becoming one for two days until they finally separated, the moon keeping his distance away from the sun longer than the sun.

The woman gave birth to the baby Setanta and many men wished to become his foster father until one suggested that since the child was so special that he should be fostered by many. And so, the king and the former king of Ulster joined with a warrior and a wealthy man and a poet and the poet's wife to foster the baby Setanta, to teach and provide for him as his mother married a mortal man.

When the God of Light found the child being cared for by so many saw the people so happy for this child not of his own loins but of his brother's in a cruel plan of deceit to take away what was rightfully his. He grew angry and jealous that they should love a child that was not his, but that of night instead of day and cursed the humans, all humans, to suffer the day, to burn alive should his rays of light touch them.

The God of Darkness grew worried for his son, afraid his son and the woman he had loved and the people of the Earth he had grown so fond of while watching them, were to be harmed by his brother's wrath and gave them the night to be free from the deadly light of the sun. He made it so the sun would not come out for longer than the sun stayed in the sky, made sure his brother's light did not last long in the sky at all and made his moon shine bright by reflecting his brother's light as his moon had always done since the Earth had been created. He then went down to Earth and told the various cultures that the sun would kill them and helped to create underground passages so that they might survive the heat of the day. The God of Light grew furious with his brother's meddling and chose not to destroy the creatures of the planet, but let the water boil so that even when the humans tried to simply drink from a pond or a river the water would burn them.

The God of Light and the God of Darkness soon chose to stay away from each other, angry with how the other behaved toward such fragile people. The God of Darkness, however, could not sleep like the other gods and goddesses could and continued to watch over the people, most especially his son while his son grew.

And so begins the story of Cuchulainn of Ulster….


	2. Chapter One

_**A/N: so I start on this early. I'm in the mood for it. Hope ya'll liked my trailer, I stayed on the main computer for an entire day coloring in those pictures and then another three hours putting together the video.**_

_**Anyway, so my mom is a bitch and so is the home owners association that we haven't even joined yet. They're harassing us like crazy for stupid small shit. **_

_**Chapter One**_

"Wow!! This looks so old!!"

A small child, smaller than his peers, lifted himself out of a trapdoor passage way he had found while exploring the oldest parts of the tunnels where his people lived. His short cropped blue hair was darker in the darkness of the room he had found himself in, which looked like it should be a library. One part of his hair, in the back, was longer and pulled into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. His complexion was very pale and his eyes like the eyes of a demon, red with cat like pupils. He was a very handsome child, however; he was bright and smiled constantly and gained the attention of everyone around him with those eyes of his and that bright smile of his.

Setanta was no more than possibly five years old. He was small for his age, which caused his mother and his foster fathers and his foster mother to feel worried for him. Because he was so small people sometimes treated him as though he were much younger than five. They sometimes treated him like he was two or three, which irritated him. He wasn't a baby! He was a big boy and could do big boy things!

His sandals scraped against the charred rock floor as he made his way to the charred book case, falling apart as he breathed. The books on the shelves looked as though they were going to fall apart if he so much as batted an eyelash at them, but they were still stacked neatly in the shelves as though nothing had happened to them.

He looked to the window and grinned when he didn't see any light except the moon, his irises growing much larger and glowing faintly in the dark as he became more accustomed to the lack of light. This always made people nervous and made the children who wandered the tunnels to make fun of him and call him a beast. But, here, no one would make fun of him. He was exploring parts that even those kids who seemed so brave as to make fun of a kid much smaller than them wouldn't go near.

He touched a book and slowly pulled it out with both hands. The black soot came off his hands and fell on his sandals and blackened the shorts and shirt he wore that his mother had made. The title was almost gone entirely, but he couldn't read it anyway. He wiped sweat unconsciously off on his arm and continued to explore the room. He found all sorts of books around, but still couldn't read a single on, for they practically fell apart in his hands. This made him frustrated for he wanted dearly to know what they had in them, since they were older than his home even. Once more, he wiped sweat from his brow and felt slightly dizzy. The room was starting to heat up, though he couldn't remember why it should be doing so.

He looked to the window and frowned as he squinted at the window. Then, he saw it. The light was coming up fast, just as his mother told him time and again that the sun did. He blinked as though he were seeing an apparition. Why should the sun come up so fast again?

The floor under his feet felt hot as he watched the sun and realized with horror that the sun was exactly as his mother had told him. He made for the trap door, but the books burst into flame around him, shelves and other things doing the same. The floor was growing hotter and the air was stifling. He tumbled onto the searing heat of the floor and cried out in both surprise and pain. His arms and legs felt like they were on fire, his skin peeling from his arms as he pulled away and tried to crawl toward the exit that was in behind the trapdoor. He pulled himself up as hard as he could and screamed in pain as his flesh pulled from his arms and hands and his legs, the floor like standing on hot coals.

"Mama… mama," he whined as he made his way toward the door as the smoke and heat made him dizzy and light headed, the pain of his arms increasing the effect. The sun rose higher above the horizon and the sky lit up more and more. He attempted to walk down the stairs, but they were just as hot as the floor was in the room. The further he walked down; however, the air grew cooler and the stairs cooler as well, though this wasn't much since they were still very hot.

He lost his footing, tumbling over the steps and hitting the next landing hard. He didn't cry, he didn't scream in pain like he wanted to. He had fallen so far beyond pain that he simply moved to survive. As he got to his feet and made his way down again, he heard a faint crying coming up the stairs.

"Setanta!! Setanta, my little boy! Call to me! Are you up there?!" His mother's voice was frantic as she climbed the hot stairs with a blanket over her head to shield her from the heat.

He smiled oddly as he finally lost consciousness and tumbled once more right into her waiting arms. She screamed in horror at his bloody arms and hands and his legs and ran down the steps with him in her arms, screaming for the wizards to come see to him. His foster fathers Conochbar, the king of Ulster, Fergus Mac Roich, the former king of Ulster, and the warrior and poet came running toward the screams of Setanta's mother, Connochbar's sister.

They took Setanta to the best wizard healers in the Ulster tunnel system and let them handle his broken bones, his burned flesh and the smoke inhalation he suffered. His mother sobbed uncontrollably into the arms of her husband, her brother on the other side of her patting her shoulder. The wizards used their potions to regrow skin and nerves, to heal his broken limbs and heal his little lungs, giving him extra blood to counter the loss of blood he had suffered from his arms, hands and legs.

When Setanta woke up next, it was several days later. His mother was singing to him and holding him in her arms like she was want to do. He gazed up at her and lifted a bandaged arm and hand to her face. He frowned when he felt nothing from his fingers. He panicked and put both hands on her face and realized he could feel nothing with either. She took his small hands gently and put them down. "Shhhhh, don't panic, little Setanta," she said softly, "Your hands are not yet healed completely. The wizards did a great many things to your body to save you."

He remembered his adventure into the library and blushed faintly. "I'm sorry, mam. I'm sorry I went where you said I shouldn't."

His mother smiled faintly and kissed his forehead, holding him to her body. "You are safe and that is what matters to me, my little boy."

He nuzzled against his mother's breast and curled up in her lap like he did when he was a baby. She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead again before she took him to the kitchen that her house had and made him some supper to feed his aching stomach. When he had supped, he went back to bed where his mother sang to him until he fell asleep.

* * *

Setanta looked at his hands. They were healed and scarred a little bit, though they had managed to heal those the most. He touched one of his arms where the scarring was a lot worse and felt very little from his arm, but everything from his hands. He rubbed absently at his arm as he looked up at the artificial torches that lit the tunnel outside of his home. He was a year older now and watched as his peers played games with each other and the older boys were being taken away on carts and horses to the boy corps where the boys would be trained into soldiers.

Setanta was not content with waiting like his mother wanted him to. He wanted to be with the older boys and learn to fight. It was a longing inside him older than he could ever know. He heard his mother swear at the old fresher they kept to keep their food safely stored. He walked over to where his mother kicked the old contraption and hit it with the side of her fist. "Damned old rust bucket!" she said. "Look at this thing, it barely keeps anything cold!"

"Why don't you ask Uncle Connochbar to get you a new one?" asked Setanta.

"Because it takes time to make one, my little son. The mechanic wizards have to make them anew from diagrams they have kept since the days of the ancients," she said. "It's simply easier to keep one running."

Setanta frowned faintly, not certain how it would be easier to keep one running than buy a new one, but he didn't press the issue. He looked out the door of the house and rubbed his arm again. His mother looked to him and stroked his hair gently. "Setanta… you still think about the boy corps, don't you?" she said softly. "I already told you that you're too young and it's far too daunting and dangerous for a boy so much younger the lads going."

"I'll be a soldier, the greatest in all Ulster," he said. He looked up and smiled at his mother. "One day I'll be a hero, mam. One day I'll be known all over Ireland, all over the world as the greatest hero of all time."

His mother chuckled and moved away from him, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Her son was already feeling the yearning from his special blood. She had never told him the truth of their punishment from the God of Light, that the God of Darkness was his father and that he alone protected humanity from certain death. She, infact, had heard his voice once more in so very long urging her to go up the forbidden stairwell to the castle library where Setanta had been so carelessly exploring. He looked to Setanta's hands and arms and legs, the ruined flesh so carefully regrown as well as the mages had been able to mage. His nerves were the hardest thing to regrow, but they regrew them as well as they could. They mostly concentrated on his hands, so that he could be the warrior they knew he would one day be without a problem.

Setanta frowned at his mother and ran off to pack his clothes for the journey to the boy corps camp. If she wouldn't allow him to go because she didn't feel it was safe for him, then he would do it by himself! And so he ran off and did just that, his mother wondering where he had gone off to with worry making her feel sick. He ran off through the tunnels, running past Fergus and his fellow soldiers on the way. Fergus turned and blinked as he watched Setanta run as fast as the wind. "What is that lad thinking?"

When he had at last made it to the boy corps camp, the boys were practicing what they had learned during the day. They looked up at him as he jogged to a stop in front of them and smiled brightly at them. "Hello!" he said in a very friendly tone.

"Oi, look at that one. Who does 'e think 'e is? Running in here without so much as a word except 'hello'!" said one blonde haired boy.

"He's rude! Teach him a lesson!" called another.

The boys ganged up on little Setanta and he felt strange, afraid of what they were going to do to him for an insult he didn't know anything about. His irises grew large and glowed faintly as his ears elongated slightly, his teeth sharpening. They attempted to grab a hold of him, but he slapped them away. They tried to manhandle him, calling him rude and presumptuous; he tossed them around as though they were nothing.

Finally, a man came out and pulled him off a boy who had a broken nose and jaw from his fists hitting him. He put Setanta away from the boys and put a hand on his head to steady him. "Oi! Lad! What in the world are you doing?!"

"That boy didn't ask us to protect him, he just walked in like he was already one of us and acted so smug!" called one of the boys.

Was that what his insult was? He had not heard of such a custom at all! He moved out from under the man's hand and walked up to the boys. "I will ask for your protection if you'll ask for mine!" he said, seriousness all over his young handsome face.

The boys looked perplexed, as though they weren't certain they knew what to make of this kid who wished to join them and what he was asking of them. "No! You were rude and then attacked us! We won't ask for your protection!"

Setanta launched himself at the boy who spoke and knocked him across the group of boys. "I ask again! If I ask for your protection, you must ask for mine!"

Another boy looked him over and snorted derisively at him. "Ask for your protection? You're as small as a flea, why should we!?"

Once more, Setanta launched himself at the boy and knocked him across the gathering. The boys then stopped sneering at him and looked at him seriously. "If we protect you, then you will protect us?"

"Aye!" said Setanta, trying to get back to himself slowly.

The boys nodded to one another and moved toward Setanta. "We ask for you to protect us. In turn, we'll protect you," said the same boy. The other boys nodded in agreement and moved around Setanta, grinning brightly and ruffling Setanta's hair.

"Oi! You're so small!" said one affectionately. "My name's Gunther," he said.

"I'm Setanta!" said Setanta happily, glad that whatever mess had cropped up had gone down fairly quickly.

Soon, Setanta was learning how to fight and be a soldier with the other boys. He soon outstripped them in ways they never thought possible. He was so small, however. He was so very small that they feared he might break if any one of them tackled him, and yet he had the strength of a man in those small arms of his. Soon enough, that strength would be tested in the ultimate sense, for his very life.


	3. Chapter Two

_**A/N: made myself some new earrings using the glass beads I got from hobby lobby. Not too shabby at all:3**_

_**My gran came over today, so yay! Saw the trailer for Prince Caspian and discovered that the home owners association fined some families $500 to $750 for leaving pet food bowls out front, leaving their garbage cans out and not cutting the lawn. WTF? That association shouldn't have that much authority, even with joining them. The neighborhood isn't even that ritzy. It's just like the neighborhood back at the other house. Your average middle class neighborhood in a small town.**_

_**Chapter Two**_

Setanta grew a little bit inside the camp of the boy corps. He was a little taller, but not much. He was still teased for being smaller than everyone else, though he was a bit younger than the other boys. He had learned so fast and so well that it was almost scary how fast he took to the games and the wrestling and the sword. His archery was only so well, however his spear work was becoming great.

Playing hurley one night, he beat the other boys while his uncle was walking around and inspecting the potential boys. His uncle walked up to him and chuckled. "Lad! I see you are fairing well!"

Setanta looked over and grinned. "I'm doing my best!" he said cheerfully.

Connochbar chuckled and patted Setanta on his head and knelt down slightly. "You've impressed me, lad," he said, "I think you deserve to come to the hall and enjoy dinner with me!"

Setanta blinked for a moment and grinned brightly once more. "I'd love to!!" he cried out happily.

Connochbar chuckled as he stood up and nodded. "Very well then! Show up later for it!" He chuckled again and walked off toward the blacksmith, talking with a few other men. Setanta grinned brightly before one of the boys hit him over the head with his hurley stick.

"Oi! Just because you got invited to the king's home doesn't mean you can slack off!" said the boy, laughing as he patted Setanta on the head.

Setanta laughed and tackled the boy before rolling around with him and pinning him. "Don't treat me like a little kid if you can't pin me as such!" he said.

The boy looked a bit sour and surprised he was easily taken down for a moment before he found the joke. He laughed for a little while as Setanta got off him and helped him up. Again, the youth noted how strong the younger boy had become and found himself slightly unnerved by this. He walked off to join another group's game as Setanta played once more against a bunch of boys much bigger than him. The boys in the group this boy rumors about Setanta that they had learned while they were there.

"I heard he's the son of the God of Darkness and that is why the sun burns us so, it's punishment for Setanta being born!" said one boy.

"That's right. It's no wonder he's so odd! But, he's so excellent with learning how to wield weapons that I don't care," said another boy, "I would have him at my back any day!"

And so, the day was spent with Setanta beating several of the boys at the games and learning to use his weapons and fighting hand to hand. When it came time for eating with Connochbar, Setanta had to ask directions for the king's hall. The tunnels in this area were so much more elaborate than where he had lived before. They were hard to navigate at times, sometimes he became so lost that he had to bed down in the corridor before someone allowed him into their home and let him sleep on a bed.

Now, he was trying to find his way and almost became hopelessly lost in the tunnel system before he found which direction to go. "There! I see the way now!" he cried.

Then, he heard a sound that raised every hair on his body to alert. A long howl of a hound running through the halls…

* * *

Connochbar sat with the other men he had invited to the dinner, listening to them tell jokes and entertain each other. He had a strange feeling he was forgetting someone as he listened to the black smith Chulainn spouting about his favorite guard hound and how effective he was.

"My hound can kill ten men in a single leap!" he cried, laughing as he drank his ale. "My guard hound is the best guard hound around! No one can dispute this!"

There was a round of men mumbling their thoughts on it, mostly agreeing that Chulainn's hound was the best around. "I saw him attack a man trying to steal some of Chulainn's goods," said one man.

"I saw him take down three men who had beaten Chulainn into unconsciousness once!" said another man.

Chulainn stopped and stood up, chuckling. "Aye, king Connochbar! It's late and I think most of the people have retreated to their homes. Do you think I can let my hound out so he might be able to roam a bit? He loves that."

Connochbar nodded and waved Chulainn off. "Aye, you may. I don't think anyone else is coming here this night."

Chulainn chuckled and walked off a little unsteadily as he made his way to where the stable was. The tunnels of Ulster were wide and long which allowed them to be traversed by horse at times. However, they were especially effective when trying to travel above ground during the night to beat the sun rising. Chulainn approached the stable and patted his dog on the head before allowing him to run off through the tunnels.

Chulainn made it back inside as some dishes were brought out for consumption. The king stopped and frowned as he eyed the chicken in front of him. He kept feeling as though he was forgetting something very important, which disturbed him greatly.

A howl rang out in the tunnels. A thought occurred to him that sent his blood running cold through his veins. Young Setanta was out in the tunnels coming to see him upon Connochbar's request!

Connochbar ran out quickly as several of the men ran after him, including the black smith Chulainn, all of them looking frightened as to what the hound had found and possibly killed.

* * *

Setanta ran as fast as his legs could carry him through the tunnels. The howling was getting nearer and nearer as he made his way toward the king's hall. "Turn a left, then a right, straight on," he mumbled to himself as he ran.

Just then, a large hound stopped in front of him as he growled. Setanta stared at the beast as it started charging him quickly. Little Setanta was filled with a fear and panic that he had never experienced before, even in the burning room of the old castle ruins above one of the Ulster entrances. The dog charged him. He raised up his hurley stick. The dog leaped at him. Setanta brought the hurley stick up and swung the hound at the wall of the tunnel. Then, he swung around as though he were fighting with one of the poles while he had been learning to fight with a spear and smashed the dog's head with a spray of blood against the wall of the tunnel.

A bunch of men ran around the corner and found Setanta standing and staring at the dog with a surprised and sick look. His irises were larger than normal and glowing faintly in the artificial lighting of the tunnel. Connochbar reached him first and pulled Setanta into a hug so tight that the boy seemed to snap out of whatever daze he'd been pulled into by killing the hound.

"Setanta! Setanta! Are you all right, lad?" cried Connochbar as he shook Setanta slightly by his shoulders.

Setanta nodded slowly and looked over to Chulainn as he knelt down to his dog and pulled him up into his arms. "My poor pup. My poor hound. I should never have let you slip your leash! I should have waited!"

Setanta's heart clenched as he watched the man cry over his hound that Setanta had killed. He ran over to him and stopped a few feet from him. "Sir, if you wish it, I will raise you a hound just as good as that one. While you wait for one to be born, I will serve as your guard hound until one can be raised."

Chulainn blinked at Setanta in surprise, more than a little unnerved by the boy's eyes and demeanor. He nodded after a moment and placed a hand on Setanta's head. "That would be fine, lad. That would be very fine indeed."

As Setanta waited for a hound to be born, he did as he had promised. He would crouch in front of Chulainn's forge and watch as people passed by. Eventually, he began to be teased for his odd behavior, but Setanta didn't feel threatened. He was doing as he had promised he would while a pup could be raised for Chulainn to replace the one he had killed.

Eventually, even the druid Cathbad had come around and joined in the teasing. "So the lad who killed the hound is sitting in for the hound himself? Now isn't that an odd way of repaying someone," he said as he chuckled.

"I promised it and so I'll do it," said Setanta as he sat down against the wall and stared at the old druid. "Is that wrong?"

"Not at all boy, not at all. It is a very fine way to repay someone. And you do such a fine job at it as well!" Cathbad smiled faintly as he eyed Setanta for a moment. "I've been noticing many people around and staring at you. They say you've become Chulainn's dog now."

"Aye, they call me Cuchulainn as a joke," said Setanta.

"Then, Cuchulainn you shall remain," said Cathbad. "It is a fine name, I feel. It's strong and makes me think you're loyal to your master and terrible toward your enemies."

Setanta blinked those big red eyes of his before he grinned. He had never thought of it that way and he liked the way Cuchulainn sounded to him. "Then, I agree," said Setanta, "I'll be known Cuchulainn from now on!"

And so, Setanta was forever known as Cuchulainn to his people. What had started as gentle teasing had become a badge of honor to Cuchulainn, though he allowed those closest to him to refer to him as Setanta still when not in public. Eventually, Cuchulainn grew more, though he was still very thin. During a philosophy class with his fellow boys, the druid Cathbad pointed to a star chart he had made. Cuchulainn was nearing ten years old by this point and feeling very bold as of late.

"If you look at this chart this way, you will see that those of you who choose to go the warrior's path today will become great heroes who will be known throughout history as the greatest hero of all time," said Cathbad. He stopped and eyed them all solemnly as each boy looked very eager. "However, while your life may be exciting, you will die an early death and not be able to see the fruits of your labors into your old age like many men around you will."

Cuchulainn gazed at Cathbad with a defiance that was palpable. If he was born of a god, especially one who protected them, then by the gods, he would become a hero as he knew he was meant to be. Immediately following the lesson, Cuchulainn made his way to Connochbar's hall and dropped to his knee. "I wish to go off and become a warrior," said Cuchulainn.

Connochbar felt a little unnerved by this confession and more than a little worried for his nephew. "Should you do so, you do so alone," he said, hoping the boy would give up.

Cuchulainn grinned as he lifted himself to his feet. "I will do it alone, but I request weapons and a horse and chariot."

Connochbar felt that was a fair wish and so granted him his weapons of choice and the horse he had had reserved for Cuchulainn since he had been born. A charioteer was selected for him and given another horse to complete the team. With that, Cuchulainn took two spears, a sword and a bow and quiver of arrows with him and made his way through the tunnels to the ground above where it would be easier to travel than the tunnels during the night.

He soon found himself to the cave where Fannell, Foill and Tuchell Scene lived. They were renown for boasting about how many Ulstermen they had killed, having killed many more than were living. This angered Cuchulainn greatly and he made his charioteer drive him to this cave. He looked to the horizon and eyed the moon as his irises grew larger and glowed faintly, the hunt on. Fannell walked out first, laughing as he spotted Cuchulainn in his little chariot, a boy trying to act like a man. Cuchulainn got off the chariot and pulled out a sword. He fought the gigantic man furiously, hearing the other two coming and calling.

Fannell swung and caught Cuchulainn on his leg, but only knicked him. This gave him the advantage, for he could feel little in his leg, even while it bled some onto his boot. He was nearer to the man than previously and cut his head off with a mighty swing of his blade. The second brother came out, Foill, and he charged and engaged Cuchulainn to a fight. Cuchulainn once more stood his ground as the man laughed at him for being a "puny Ulsterman boy". The frenzy was so great that Cuchulainn found himself changing more. His ears grew pointy, his face elongating into a dog like snout, his arms and legs growing longer and blue fur covering much of his body as his teeth grew sharp and angry. He launched at him and bit right into his neck before ripping his head off completely and tossing it at the other body of Fannell.

Tuchell came out by this time and was so greatly terrified and angered at the destruction of his brothers that he charged at Cuchulainn as well. "You damned little bastard!! How dare you kill my brothers!" he cried out in anger. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you and then I'll fuck that little skull of yours while you rot!"

Cuchulainn pulled out a spear and took his ground. Tuchell came at him fast and Cuchulainn had to move quickly away to keep from getting trampled. He swung around and stabbed Tuchell in the back, but this seemed only to anger him further. Cuchulainn's rage grew at how he had seemingly missed his mark. He, this time, leaped up and grabbed a hold of Tuchell with his claws and stabbed the spear right into his heart before jumping off and swinging the spear around and stabbing the man in his neck, the blade coming out the other side of his neck as blood poured forth rapidly.

Cuchulainn's battle rage was not satisfied, however, for it was truly the first time that he had felt such anger and frenzy raising his blood as it rushed through his veins. He ran back to Emain Macha as his charioteer followed behind him. The moon was slowly going behind the horizon as they made their way to the passage way that lead right into Emain Macha. People were busy gathering plants and things outside that when they saw him they through down their things and ran underground and called forth Connochbar to come out and deal with the raging Cuchulainn.

Connochbar stopped when he saw Cuchulainn, his features terrible looking to be certain and covered in the blood of his enemies and some of his own. He rushed into the passage way and tried to rally the men to come out and help him calm the boy down. Mugain, Connochbar's wife, had an idea of what to do to distract Cuchulainn. Cuchulainn was still a child, despite how he acted, and thus was more than likely embarrassed by the bare body of women.

Mugain turned to Connochbar and whispered in his ear her plan before she pulled up as many women as she could to come with her outside the passage while it was still dark outside. They ran out and walked out some ways from the entrance to the passage way as Cuchulainn panted and ran at the women, seeing only targets before him to slaughter. The stood their ground bravely before they each pulled open their dresses and bared free to him their breasts.

Cuchulainn stopped in his tracks, eyed the women each for a moment before he seemed to blush and look away quickly. The men saw their opportunity and grabbed Cuchulainn, tossing him into a large tub of water. The water disappeared almost instantly when he was tossed into it, streams of steam rising up out of the tub. They grabbed him again and pulled him into the passage way where they tossed him into another tub of water, the water this time boiling as he sat in it spluttering. "YOU ROTTEN BASTARDS! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? DROWN ME?!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as they once more tossed him into another tub.

Cuchulainn rose up and spat out water, looking much like a cat that had been tossed into a tub of water as he glared at the men, though his visage was that of himself and not a great big man-hound. "You're enjoying this, aren't you," grumbled Cuchulainn as he attempted to fix his hair.

"Oi, we were afraid you might kill us all while you were in that state," said one man. This shook Cuchulainn to the core. He might have killed them all if he had continued to rage like he had been.

He looked down into the now warm water he sat in. He sighed as Connochbar came up to him and patted him on his soggy head. "You did something didn't you," asked Connochbar, "You fought as you said you would and this was the resulting battle rage you had when you fought, isn't it?"

Cuchulainn nodded and scratched his unharmed leg. "I'm sorry I frightened everyone," he said.

Mugain walked over and put a hand on his injured leg. "Let's let the healers deal with your wounds, shall we?" she said, smiling warmly at Cuchulainn. Her warm hand on him was a bit unnerving as he could still remember her baring her breasts to him with several other women. Connochbar lifted him out of the water and he walked with Mugain to the infirmary in Emain Macha where the healers used various potions on his wounds and bandaged him up.

From this day forward, Cuchulainn was indeed growing in popularity, people pronouncing him a warrior for his great deed in killing those three brothers.


	4. Chapter Three

_**A/N: aaaaaaaand so we have Dark Hound again… I just got a couple of books from the "local" bookstore. Actually, it's easier just to go into Austin than it is to go into San Marcos from Bastrop. w but, the Hastings bookstore is right next to a Hobby Lobby, so that's nice, plus the store's got some awesome stuff in it including awesome shoes! Also, it's like half price books, you can sell your old books and music and dvds to them, though I think they have to be in slightly better shape than what you can get away with at Half-Price.**_

_**Plus you don't get a discount on the stuff you buy like you do at Half-Price. w;; oh well….**_

_**Had an idea of something that I'm going to make happen. :3 Started it up in the rpg and well, I think it works. Heh heh heh heh heh…..**_

_**Chapter Three**_

Many years had passed for Cuchulainn. A young man now, he was far too handsome a man for the rest of the Ulstermen. They each went on a search through the tunnels for any young woman who might interest the lad, but he seemed very reluctant to look at their choices. He had actually found his choice, but her father wasn't having it. Emer, daughter of Forgall the Wily, was as beautiful as any woman could wish to be. Her father knew of how pretty the boy was and how much he enjoyed flirting with the other women, younger and older alike, that he did not want his daughter to associate with such a young man much less marry him.

That spurred an idea inside his skull. If the boy were sent off on a mad quest that might keep him out until the sunrise just to reach the place he was questing for, the lad might die and Forgall would die a happy man. And so, he took the young Cuchulainn aside and told him to go to the Island of Skye and learn the ways of a warrior from the warrior witch Sgatha. Forgall knew the woman alone would make minced meat out of the boy, who was still quite short for his age and very thin and wiry. Of course, that was if the boy even made it to the island. The water around the island was scorching hot all the time from the sun burning, yet the water and life inside the water always remained. Even during the night, the air cool and dew forming on plant life around, the water would steam as though it were sitting over a great fire pit.

And thus Cuchulainn was on this journey. He constantly cursed Forgall's name when he had been packing for the long journey. The end of the tunnel system would come soon and he knew it. He could see the narrowing of the tunnel as it made its way upward, stairs and wood railings built into the Earth. When he reached the end, above him was a hatch to leave through. There was no light coming through and the air was cool; the day had gone and night was about once more. With that, Cuchulainn pulled himself up through the hole and started running through the grassy countryside of Ulster's above ground.

Ever since Cuchulainn had reached a certain age, he found his mind far more muddled by thoughts of women and of what a difference between men and women there was. He knew it was normal for all men to go through, but it had puzzled him greatly when upon the first day of the full moon he had grown far more anxious than he had ever felt before. He felt like his skin crawled and that his body was practically screaming at him to do something, anything, to make it go. He would run on these nights, out into the night, far from home and hide under ground in one of the older parts of the Ulster underground. As he gazed up at the sky, he noticed that it would not be long before the moon was full once more and he would once again have to find someplace to disappear to before he went insane from a hunger so vast inside of him that he was uncertain he would ever be able to fill it.

After a while of running, he grew tired and rested against a tree, eating his lunch there. The moon was high in the sky and would remain so for a while he knew. When he finished his lunch, he started back up; he ran until he started to smell sea water. He had successfully run all the way toward the edge of the island and would have to go north to find the magic island that the warrior witch was exiled to for eternity.

Cuchulainn stopped when he found himself in what looked to be an old city. The metal skeletons of the ancient people's buildings stood like gargoyles trying to scare off those who would dare enter them. Plant life grew over their structures, glass continued to fall from their framed occasionally, hitting the ground with loud crashing sounds. He walked through the city and heard the noises of animals that lived in the buildings as they went about their routines. No human could live in this world, for it was far too close to the heat of the sun. Animals, he had realized long ago, were somehow exempt from the curse that seemed to be placed upon his people.

The sound of the animals was growing; his head was almost throbbing from the sheer number of them making noise. Had they noticed his presence and were disturbed? No, it was something else that had alerted them, he was sure of it. Was it a great big creature that was a predator to the animals that seemed to be alerting all the others?

Cuchulainn frowned and panted heavily, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He was terribly hot and felt like he was burning up from a fever. He blinked as he gazed at the ground ahead of him. The faintest glimmer of light was coming up, his shadow appearing very slightly on the ground. Panic rushed through him as he took off through the forested city. He knew there were several places around the area that people had made for themselves to hide in long ago before he was born, back when everyone had tried their best to find ways of getting out of the sun's deadly gaze.

He could see his shadow more and the heat on his back was overwhelming! His heart raced wildly as his body throbbed from the abuse it was taking at the hands of the sun. Then, as the sun seemed as though it was going to claim another victim, he grabbed a hold of a latch and dove right down into a tunnel, slamming the door shut and running deep into the tunnel until the air felt cool again. He fell to the floor on his face, crumpling as the adrenaline that had kept him moving wore off. He could not tell when he had fallen asleep, but he knew he had. When he did, it was a good, hard sleep that took him. For that he was glad.

* * *

The night sky was filled with clouds, the moon shining bright on a strange building that looked like a castle. As he gazed upon the building, it reminded him of the castle he had explored as a child. Cuchulainn gripped his arm as the old scars twitched. It wasn't the same building, he knew it wasn't, but he could not help feeling a small amount of fear at the sight of the massive building so high above ground.

The air seemed to move around him one moment and then he found himself inside the castle. Torches lit the massive hallways, large windows brought in the light of the moon to their darkness. Occasionally, Cuchulainn found himself seeing a child not much younger than him run past with a black robe on. He frowned and the air moved around him once more. This time, he found himself inside a chamber of sorts. There were several beds and one held a girl who was talking to herself while reading a book of sorts, a stick in her hand that seemed to have a fire on it, but it did not burn the stick away nor did the book burn from it. The girl he watched was a pretty girl, about the same age as him in fact. She had shoulder length blonde hair and pretty amber eyes that glittered like gold in the light from her magic stick.

The other beds had their curtains drawn, signifying that the persons in the beds were sleeping. As he made his way closer, he smelled the faint smell of many perfumes in the air. This was a room for women. Upon a closer look, he found strange undergarments strewn about beside some of the beds. When he moved closer to the bed with the blonde haired young woman reading by magic stick light, she looked up and around. Then, her gaze landed on him. A strange tingle went through his body as he gazed upon her. She was very pretty, but she was very thin and small. Was she really close to his age, or had that merely been his assumption?

Her gold eyes grew wide as she gazed at him. She pulled the stick up and shined the light at him for a moment before she gasped and screamed what sounded like the old words that the mages spoke to make their spells work. He moved aside to avoid whatever she had intended to toss at him and got onto the bed. He pressed his finger to his lips and shushed her softly. When she stopped and watched him, her face contorted as the world seemed to change before him. She grew older and he was no longer gazing at her from a bed, but from a new vantage point of a chair. There, the girl was a woman and she was pregnant, her small body carrying a huge weight in front of her that he could barely imagine a woman her size carrying. Beside her on one side was a red haired man who was fairly tall and muscled well enough. On the other side of her stood a man who fairly towered over everything else; his eyes were a deep, dark shade of blue and his hair a black that made his skin seem entirely too pale. Despite this, this man was clearly very handsome, his features chiseled and fine, his cheekbones high and his jaw decently formed. Both men seemed to be paying attention to the woman as though they were her husbands.

Cuchulainn watched as the scene melted before him and the woman was alone. When he moved toward her, it was as though he were moving through sand. The air melted behind her and grew dark and angry. She turned toward him and her eyes had grown cold, the pupils of her eyes disappearing entirely. A great big door appeared behind her and when the doors opened, many black hands and arms snaked out and made a grab for him. He fought them, but they kept coming to him. Then, they took him toward that black abyss of a set of doors. He fought still and seemed to gain purchase before a sickening sound erupted in his ears as pain shot through his body.

Cuchulainn woke up sharply from the ground where he had made his bed. His arm was in an odd position underneath him and was tingling and prickling with tiny needles as he attempted to move the numb limb out from under him. When he regained feeling, he looked up at the ceiling. Had he visited a strange world where humans lived above ground? Had he found himself inside a world with a woman who took his attention so abruptly that he fair forgot Emer? Or, had he simply dreamed it all?

He worked his way toward the entrance of the tunnel, always checking to see if he could leave soon. When it seemed the sun had indeed gone down, Cuchulainn went back on his journey to find the magic island.


End file.
